Moonlight and Lovers Go Hand in Hand
by Eleanor Zara Sugarbaker
Summary: Based upon the BBC production of "Pollyanna," Dr. Chilton reminisces about his love of Polly Harrington.


**Author's Note**: This little piece of fluff is based upon the BBC's version of "Pollyanna" with Amanda Burton and Georgina Terry. However, it could apply to the Disney version as well if you changed Dr. Chilton's name from Thomas to Edmund.

_"Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale  
Her infinite variety: other women cloy  
The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry  
Where most she satisfies."_

--from "Antony and Cleopatra" by William Shakespeare

* * *

Dr. Thomas Chilton stepped outside of his lover's remarkable house and onto the wrap around porch, where a small breeze whirled by him, kissing his skin and tousling his hair along it's way. It was a fine evening. In the far distance, he could see the last remaining light of the day diving into the earth to continue chasing it's mother, the sun, as it had since creation. There was a brilliant glow of deep, golden yellow, dark orange, majestic purple and magenta that danced it's last dance along the horizon before it's ultimate disappearance into the night. 

The silhouetted tree branches almost obscured this view of Dr. Chilton's, but he had found a spot between two large tree limbs that had allowed him to witness the natural beauty and the wonder that the world displayed before his captivated eyes. They remained virginal in the face of beauty as they always held each picture of life in absolute fascination therefore preventing Thomas from taking for granted a sensational sunset or a single drop of rain beaded into the crease of a petal. It was an understatement to say that Thomas loved pretty things, for he thought there was something to love in everything--nature, humanity, day-to-day living. But for those very few, rare things that he thought most beauteous and charming and delightful and radiant... he worshipped.

It should be said that there was only one thing in this world that fulfilled all these requirements and she crossed his path nearly twenty-six years ago. When her most divine and exquisite features met his eyes that warm spring day when the trees and gardens were full of fresh blossoms and the air was saturated with a sweet honeysuckle scent, he nearly imploded from those long, descriptive words that he just couldn't seem to get to leave his mouth that was hanging open in complete awe. Thomas knew he must've made an ill first impression on Miss Polly Harrington, so the next time he saw her, which was two days later, he presented her with an extravagant bouquet of fresh daisies, lilies, violets, bluebells and freesia--all plucked, or perhaps "borrowed," he should say, from his neighbor, Mrs. Jamison's garden. He'd taken off his hat with one trembling hand and the other was extended out towards Miss Polly, firmly clutching the bouquet he'd gone to great lengths to pick.

As graceful as a ballerina, Miss Polly outstretched her own hand and took his gift. Each motion and gesture was as delicate as the lace sewn on her dress. Her smile was something out of a Monet painting and every soft and gentle movement played like a Beethoven sonata. Yes, he had fallen in love with Polly Harrington the very first time he saw her. It was the second time that he'd seen her that he had gathered up enough courage to ask her if he may be able to call on her. With shy eyes whose natural glistening caught the reflection of the brilliant sunlight and cheeks that now contained more color than Mrs. Jamison's vibrant pink roses, the demure Miss Polly answered with a simple, "Yes."

Thomas remembered that memory with a wistful smile because just a few short years later, his memories would be the only things left to him after the tragic, heartbreaking dissolution of his relationship with Polly. They'd sustained him each and every torturous, sad day of the last sixteen years--sixteen years marked by longing and regret.

Oh well, he wouldn't think of that now. Not when the sky was giving him such a spectacular show and certainly not when his beloved was standing in the distance just beyond the hillside. Though darkness had blanketed the Earth, Thomas could still make out Polly's slim figure and he could see the many curls at the base of her neck and around the side of her face that the wind teased with its invisible fingers. He smiled as he leaned against the railing on the porch. Through those arduous sixteen years, he never once forgot how beautiful she was--every lily he saw reminded him of her lily-white skin, every pink rose reminded him not only of her blushing cheeks, but of her soft lips that tasted at various times of sweet fruit. When he smelled lavender, he would briskly turn around like a man gone crazy to see if she were standing behind him. He was always severely disappointed.

But he would never know that disappointment again, for she was just a few hundred feet in front of him. He was standing on _her_ porch of _her_ house looking at _her_. She was just breathtaking to look at, even from behind, and the colorful sky beyond her added marvelously to the view he had. Was she an angel that had accidentally fallen from her heavenly cloud?? Or was she a flower who'd grown legs and feet from it's roots, arms and hands from it's leaves, a body from it's stem and a head from it's blossom?? If so, she was from no earthly garden.

No longer able to take the short separation from his lover, he silently descended the stairs that led to the porch and walked across the green lawn. The figure of Polly became larger and larger as he neared her. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and before long he discerned her white shirt, her dark blue skirt and a tiny shiny comb tucked into a roll of hair at the back of her head. When he finally reached his destination, his heart leaped as it always did when he knew that Polly was close by. She'd obviously hadn't heard him or she would've turned around. Sneaking up from behind, he leaned into her and felt her jump a little when he gently wrapped his arms around her waist, encompassing her with his body. Soon enough, she relaxed into his embrace and it seemed as though their bodies had melted into one. Her own arms laid lovingly on his big, strong arms and she had found his hands which she clasped tightly with hers. Thomas's chin came down to rest on her shoulder. Instantly, his senses were flooded with the smell of lavender. Tears clouded his eyes as he recognized and appreciated this nostalgia.

They stood together in silence for several minutes as the first stars of the night were born into the black velvet sky. One by one, the celestial bodies lit up the night, giving a small amount of light to the dark Earth. An overwhelming amount of silvery light came from the full moon that hung overhead. It's ethereal gleam highlighted the landscape before them and reflected off everything that stood in it's wake, casting all of the earth in a luminous but ghostly glow. Nothing escaped it's pale radiance. Thomas was thankful for this for the kind moon also bathed Polly in it's loving, shimmering caresses and for a moment, he swore that he and Polly were twenty years old again.

He raised up and slowly turned her around to face him. With his heart full of emotion, he reached around the back of her head and found the comb that kept her hair in it's tight knot. Deftly, his slightly shaking fingers released her hair from captivity. Her handsome locks, illuminated gloriously by the white celestial light, tumbled out of the hairstyle and fell around her face and onto her shoulders. She closed her eyes as he ran his fingers through her hair. He let each silky strand brush finely against his sensitive fingertips. Finally, he could go without speaking no more.

"Oh Polly...," he mumbled, "So long. We've waited so long."

Polly opened her eyes and drank up his face--the face that was classically handsome and ageless, no matter how many lines the years may have borne him. Her own eyes filled with tears that promptly spilled out onto her moonlit face and trailed down her cheek. Thomas moved to wipe them away but as soon as he lifted his arm, Polly enveloped her lover with herself and buried her face in his crisp, white shirt. Happiness surged through his body as their forms melded together. As he held her close to him, he thanked God above and that dear little girl Pollyanna who was hundreds of miles away for this second chance.

Leaning over, he bent his head down until his mouth was close enough to her ear that his lips could easily take hold of the outer fleshy curve. In a low voice he teased, "If we keep crying every time we look at one another, we'll never get anything done."

Immediately, Polly was overcome with laughter. It was infectious, for soon, Thomas was chuckling as well.

When Polly caught her breath, she pulled away to look him. The look on her face was of pure adoration. Then suddenly, she became shy.

"I'm sorry, Thomas, to be so emotional. With Pollyanna gone, I feel so... empty."

"Don't be sorry, Polly," he insisted. "Don't ever be sorry for the way you feel. Everyone feels the same way. It's not the same without her, but she'll return to us as soon as she can. In her last letter, she'd just starting taking steps. It won't be long now."

Polly sighed. The wind had picked up slightly and was rustling the leaves on the giant oak trees in the yard. She heard the faint tinkling sounds of wind chimes and the gusts of wind that zipped by in spurts like waves in an ocean. She looked away from the man before her.

Firmly, but softly she stated, "When she comes to me this time, things will be different. I'm going to give her all she needs--a family, a home, but most importantly, love."

With an overjoyed heart, Thomas reached to tenderly clasp Polly's chin with his hand and turned her head slowly until their eyes met.

"Do you mean that, Polly? That you want to give Pollyanna a family?"

Even through the darkness, Thomas could see Polly blushing fiercely. Now, it was apparent that she was a little flustered as Thomas had caught her off guard, but she managed to answer without much hesitation, "Yes. Yes, I do."

Instantly, Thomas let go of her chin, causing a look of bewilderment to shadow her face. He grinned and dropped to one knee in the longish grass. His two hands sandwiched Polly's satiny left hand. Looking up, he gazed into the face that had haunted his dreams all these years, the one that begged to be worshipped by a lover's passionate kisses.

Polly opened her mouth and gasped, quickly covering it with her free hand. Could he be... No...

"Polly, I've waited for this moment since we met in the spring of twenty-six years ago," he smiled and shook his head. "Then for a while, I thought that it might never happen and that it was foolish of me to keep hoping for this after so much time had passed. For this moment, I'm am indebted to Pollyanna for the rest of my days."

Her hand was now removed from her mouth and laying at her side. Slowly and deeply she inhaled and exhaled through her partially separated lips. Little tremors of happiness swept through her body, but were expeditiously followed by tremors of caution. She just couldn't let herself believe that Thomas was going to ask the question.

Continuing, he proclaimed with a voice that boomed with affection, "I've loved you since that first day and with each passing day since, my love has only grown. Since coming back here to this house and to you, I've gone over this speech many times in my head, trying to get it right, hoping that the appropriate time would come along to ask it. It never seemed to be a good time, until now. My life is lonely, Polly. I need you, and I need Pollyanna, too.

"So, Miss Polly Isabelle Harrington, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife and sharing with me the rest of our days?"

Extreme happiness and love threatened to choke Polly. Placing a hand over her heart, she labored hard to deliver oxygen to her lungs. Her heart, now once again full of joy and warmth, pounded against her sternum, it's every beat radiating a profound sense of gladness throughout her body. Yes, gladness. That word sounded so sweet and dear, thanks to her niece. She had never been so "glad" to _feel_ the word, let alone hear it!

Stifling a sob, the tears in her eyes were exaggerated by the silver moonlight and glistened ferociously. With a quivering mouth, she released the word that had been prepared twenty-six years ago and since then had burrowed itself in the deepest part of her soul, "Yes!"

She said yes! She said yes! Thomas abruptly jumped up, still grasping Polly's hand. He wasn't as sprite as he had been in his youth, but this newfound happiness had somehow recaptured what age had stolen from him.

He placed his hands on her arms and stared into her face and was delighted to see that it reflected the same amorous look as his own. Her lips were curved upward into a modest smile, but he knew Polly Harrington well and that her reserved demeanor would prevent her from wildly displaying the emotion that was fervently itching to explode out of the cocoon that was her body.

Unable to stand it anymore, he pulled Polly near him until she was so close that she had laid her head on his chest, but he had a different idea. With his smooth fingers, he placed them under her chin and tipped her face upwards, capturing her wet lips in a kiss. She'd been startled at first, so much so that her lips were rather stiff, but as she snaked her arms around his neck, her lips softened until they were like two feather-filled pillows, melding to fit the form of his mouth.

When they finally pulled away from one another, Thomas murmured, "Let's not go inside just yet. Let's stay out here and watch the moon. It's only full once a month, and besides, my favorite type of light is moonlight." They embraced, allowing nothing to come between them, not even the wind.

"Oh??" Polly asked curiously. "Why is that?"

She didn't have to see his face to know that he was smiling. His lips tickled as he moved them against her hair. "Because it was in the moonlight that you said 'yes.'"


End file.
